You're Old, I'm Old . . . Get Used to It!
Page 18
Even if you do understand how the wretched things work, your hands just aren’t as strong as they used to be. When he was about eighteen months old, I was unable to fasten the catch on my grandson’s car seat, and had to improvise by tying a plastic bag to one side of the seat, and then tying that to the finger of a glove, and knotting the whole thing up with a rubbery thing with hooks on the end that you use for keeping suitcases and furniture on the top of your car. In the end, the poor child looked like one of those strange and sinister parcels you sometimes see on the luggage carousel at the airport, a parcel that has apparently been there for years and looks like it will be there for a few years to come. I drove back very slowly indeed, one hand on the wheel and the other on his tummy in case he should suddenly propel himself out through the windshield.
Another time I couldn’t get his straps open at the other end of the journey. After ten minutes he was yelling and I was crying and feeling so desperate that I was forced to enlist the help of a passing hoodlum who naturally managed to free him at once.
(There are, if you search the web, granny-friendly products available. There’s a special hip sling for you to wear that enables you to carry a baby without doing your back in, simple travel cots, comprehensible strollers, booster seats, singalong CDs for those ghastly car journeys that feature traditional counting songs, a bath-kneeler, potties, and even a safety pack so you’ve got everything by you in case of emergency.)
Grannydom flung me into the world of knitting. It threw me back into toy stores where I could browse for hours and find, to my astonishment, that books like The Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Cat in the Hat, and The Tiger Who Came to Tea were still going strong, which was rather a relief. I now search out information on the Net about how to rear tadpoles. I collect bits of candy wrappers, feathers, and colored straws so that we have enough material for collage and painting sessions when my grandsons come to visit. I can’t see a picture of a cow without saying “Mooooo” or a dog without saying “Woof-woof !” It’s got me digging out old recipes for gingerbread men, cheese straws, peppermint creams, and scones. The whole house often smells of baking these days as, after a series of disappointing disasters that had everyone in tears, I practice my skills. (“But Granny, what’s happened to their eyes!” sobbed my grandson when all the gingerbread men came out looking like obese day-trippers, blinded by the sun.)
I feel an unaccustomed joy with my grandchildren, a joy that I’ve not had in any other relationship—and I’m not the only one. No cowboy was ever faster on the draw than a grandparent pulling a baby picture out of a wallet. And fellow grannies agree that the experience is astonishing, as marvelous as finding, in winter, a solitary rose blooming on a withered branch. (Actually it’s a lot better than that, but you get the gist.) I read recently a quote from G. K. Chesterton, who wrote a hundred years ago that family is “this frail cord, flung from the forgotten hills of yesterday to the invisible mountains of tomorrow”—and when you’re a grandparent it all becomes clear. The realization that life is just a string of people, generation after generation, going on forever, suddenly comes home to you in a way it never could without a grandchild.
Small wonder that these days I start calling my grandsons by my son’s name, my son by his father’s name, and his father by my grandson’s name. We all seem to be floundering around in one big familial soup.
Sometimes I wonder if the seeds of my fulfillment in the role of granny hadn’t been sown years and years before, with my own grandmother. She was my lifesaver. She lived below us in our house in London, and when things got too tense within my parents’ loveless marriage, I would go downstairs and find her in her cozy living room, eyes twinkling, full of jokes and affection. She had a magical cupboard stuffed with toys and board games like Chutes and Ladders and Ludo. During hot summers we’d sometimes take a picnic out to the park and eat sugar sandwiches as a treat. She had always wanted to be a comic actress—she constantly sang me the old songs and even took me to see Joyce Grenfell, Flanders and Swan, and even the Crazy Gang. And since I was a lonely only child, I looked forward each year to the time when I would spend a week with her at the seashore, just the two of us. We’d take bags of plums down to the beach each day and, in the evening, visit the carnival down the road. I still remember the sound of the waves mixed with the music from the merry-go-round and the screams from the Big Dipper. Whatever ride I went on, my grandmother was always waiting for me at the end, eyes bright with excitement: “Was it very scary, darling? Was it fun? You’re such a brave girl!”
When I painted a picture my parents would say, “Oh, fine. Now, have you done your homework?” But if I showed it to my granny, she’d open her eyes wide with astonishment. “Did you really do this? No, you’re joking! It’s just not possible. Let me look at it in the light! But darling, it’s quite astonishingly good! It’s quite wonderful! Would you mind if I got it framed and hung it up in my sitting room so everyone can see it? You draw quite superbly . . . and those colors! Darling, you’re quite amazing!”
Grandparents share a curious granny camaraderie. The other day one told me about her two granddaughters, one being three years old and the other only nine months. They each had a teddy and she was planning to knit a sweater for both bears.
The older granddaughter declared that she wanted hers to be sparkly, with gold and pink and silver threaded through, and a star motif on the front. Asked what kind of sweater her granny should knit for her young sister, who was too young to speak her wishes, the child replied, with an evil glint in her eye, “I think gray would be very nice.”
My own grandson once crept into my bed at five in the morning, claiming that he had woken early because he had had a “deem about piders.”
“Granny? Granny?” he’d said, when he’d finally managed to wake me up. “I got good idea. You go down the end of the garden and be monster, and I get my sword and I be knight and come and kill you!”
And a little while later as I stood, waiting behind a tree shivering in my glamorous dressing gown in the cool dawn light at the start of a long, long day, while my grandson charged toward me with his plastic sword, I realized I was happy.
Isn’t it great, being old?
Index
AARP
ailments
alphabet, trick for memory
alternative medicine, banned topic (see also mugging)
Amstrad, old disks
anecdotage, reaching your
anxiety, on highways
aquagym, limit to personal humiliation
aquarium, joining an
argument, life too short for
Armchair Aerobics
arousal, A for
arthritis and mobility
avocado pear, first, leaflet on
bag, colostomy
ballerina (too late to be)
ballroom dancing, pleasures of
Bat, Old
bath handles, portable
bath mats, mold on bottom of
Batty Look, better than being invisible
BBC World Service, decline of boring programs
beard, on an old man, please do not grow
Beatles, the
bickering, irritation of in old couples
biddy, sad, old
biking, because of recalcitrant neck, dangerous
blessed generation, us sixty-year-olds
book club, don’t join one
bore, old, why it’s such fun being an
Boring for Britain
boy soldiers, clitorectomies performed by
bungalows, threat to life
bungee jumping
BUPA look, the
busyness, of retired people
cancer hats
cane—me, a cane!
checking yourself in, difficulty of
Christmas, grisly prospect of more
civilization, end of
cloth napkins, tablecloths, muffling material, desirability of
confidence, at committee m
eetings
crack cocaine, ayahuasca, ketamine—at last
CRAFT Moment (see also Senior Moment)
cremains
crosswords, joys of
cruises, horror of
darling, calling people in sixties (see also sweetie)
darning mushroom, eating, not
dates, sell-by, not to worry about
dating services, sixty-five- to seventy-year-olds, fastest growing users of
Day, Doris
death, wonderful to look forward to
dozing, mouth open, with
drawing room, Victorian, dark, cluttered, state of older mind
dress, inability to get out of
dressing gown, glamorous
drop, the, not yet experienced
Edinburgh, one-woman show
Eeyore mentality
egg stain, on tie, revolting sight of
elderly
England, delights of traveling in
Facebook, time-consuming
face-lift, have a
family tree, boredom of leaping from branch to branch of
fart, old, meddlesome
“Favorite Things, My,” Julie Andrews
feet, extra sensitive
films, play, walking out of in first ten minutes
first aid course, taking
flamingo, on one leg like
flat tire, ability to ask a man to fix it
floaters, reading ahead of
flowers and funerals, lovely
forgetting plots, joy of
friends, make, with yourself
frogs, vilest, yuckiest before prince
frontal lobes, home of atrophied synapses
fumbling, less by older men
funny turns
G and Ts, at ten in the morning, guiltless
gardening, as revitalization of sexual performance, beware of
geezer, old
Georgie’s Germs
Germany, special menus for old
glasses, where are my
good book, jolly evening spent reading a
grandchildren, reward for not killing your children
grannery, to a, get you
granorak, becoming a
Grant, Cary, old, fine, how you
graveyards, packed with old people
gym, leaving like crushed worm
height, losing
Hen, Little Red
Holland, site of over-fifties town
hoodlums, fearlessness in facing of
ironing, sex, preferable to
Ironside, Dr.
Jehovah’s Witnesses, tell to bugger off
knitting
ladies’ luncheon clubs, talking to
lasts, nothing, neither happiness nor misery
Lennon, John, thinking really something
let yourself go, no excuse to
life story, writing your
lists, making
living will, every corner, stashed in
loafing, pleasure of
lodgers, dealing sternly with
loneliness, biting in heart
long-jumper (too late to be)
long-term memory, pleasure of
love letters, importance of burning old
lovers, better when older
lumps on legs, some women looking like
lunch, what’s for, pet
makeup, don’t stint
map, to show which fellow insomniacs are awake
Matisse, owner of colostomy bag (see R. J. Mitchell)
Mead, Margaret, view on relationship between grandparents and grandchildren
memory loss, cause of rejoicing
Miami, God’s Waiting Room
minimalist flat, bare, wretched, bleak, state of young mind
models, elderly
Mongolia, bicycling across
mortuary, corpses, packed to portholes with
Mother’s Little Helpers, no reason not to get addicted
mugging, banned topic (see also alternative medicine)
museum, darkness reduced entry fee (Nah nah nah-nah nah!”)
names, forgetting
nation’s wealthpercent owned by over-sixties
New Age retiree
new life, desirability
new life, undesirability
nose drip
old friends, never introduce to others
organ recital
packing, weeks in advance
pajamas
partner, leaving
paunches, can’t be helped, even on old muscle men
pedestrian crossing, bumpy dots, agony of
pets, get two
pigeon, flabbergasted with delight
pills, running across room to hear more
pregnant, get, never again
prescription, free (Nah nah nah-nah nah!”),
present, great time to die
presents, only consumable or shortlived
Proust, new appeal of
puppetry, new appeal of
ratchets, dropping a few
roast rat, first
reflux, acid
restaurants, making complaints in
R. J. Mitchell, owner of colostomy bag, (see Matisse)
rubber gloves, rubber bands turning into
’60s, if remembered you weren’t there
safari, never wear anything that looks as if going on
Secret Santa, pleasure of never again receiving a present from
senior
senioritis, suffering from
Senior Moment (see also CRAFT Moment)
sex, advantages of not having
sheepdogs, small, having on your chin
shopping, till I’ve dropped, I’ve never
silver pound, preferable to gray pound
silver tsunami, predicted by Martin Amis
sixty (going on twenty), (new thirty), (fifty ten)
SKIers, horrible people who spend their kids’ inheritance
skin tags, excision by scissors
skirt, taking off my, at X-ray machine
sleep
inability to
beside someone night after night, horror of having to
smoking, only allowed in house, not garden
smoking room, in tolerant hospices
soap, old, boiling down of
spittle, dried, wipe constantly
Stannah Stairlifts
strangers, smiling broadly at
Sunshine Home, sorry, completely forgot to mention this in book, nowhere to be found
Swedenpercent of married men over seventy still having sex
sweetie, calling people in sixties (see also Darling)
synapses, atrophying of
talking to yourself, pleasure of
television set, no one had a
tests, with good-looking male nurses
tights, putting on like hedgehog
Tintern Abbey, wouldn’t mind looking like
toenails, cutting
tongues, clean with bicarbonate of soda
too late, it is too late
treadmill, twelve minutes on
tricks, memory
trousers, for women, avoid
Turkish carpet, dressed simply in
ugh, hoisting yourself up
undertaker training
upper arms, pinching into skin peaks
veins
walker, decorated with lights
watercolorist, pointlessness of becoming a mediocre one in later life
white stockings, in hospitals, refusal to wear
wig, swallow pride and get one
wings, bat
young, to the old, like a drug
PERMISSIONS
“What Fifty Said” from The Poetry of Robert Frost edited by Edward Connery Lathem, published by Jonathan Cape. Reprinted by permission of The Random House Group Ltd.
Virginia Woolf letter from The Letters of Virginia Woolf by Virginia Woolf, published by Hogarth Press. U
sed by permission of the executors of the Virginia Woolf Estate and The Random House Group Ltd.
Diana Athill quote from Diana Athill interview with K ira Cochrane. Copyright Guardian News & Media Ltd 2009.
Maurice Goudeket, The Delights of Growing Old, reproduced by permission of Pollinger Ltd and Maurice Goudeket.
John Cooper Pow ys quote reproduced by permission of Pollinger Ltd and the Estate of John Cooper Powys.
“Ain’t It Grand to be Bloomin’ Well Dead.” Words and music by Leslie Sarony © Copyright 1932 (renewed 1949), Campbell Connelly & Company Ltd. All Rights Reserved. International Copyright Secured. Used by permission of Music Sales Limited.
A. J. P. Taylor quote from the Evening Standard.
Travels with Charley by John Steinbeck (Penguin Books, 1992). Copyright © The Curtis Publishing Company Inc., 1961, 1962. Copyright © John Steinbeck, 1962. Copyright renewed Elaine Steinbeck, Thom Steinbeck and John Steinbeck IV, 1989, 1990. Reproduced by permission of Penguin Books Ltd and Curtis Brown Group Ltd.
Carl Jung quote from Aspects of the Masculine (Ark), p. 33.
Robert Conquest limerick reproduced by permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London on behalf of Robert Conquest. Copyright © Robert Conquest, 2007.
Ogden Nash poem. Copyright © 1956 by Ogden Nash. Reprinted by permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd.
Robert Conquest limerick reproduced by permission of Curtis Brown Group Ltd, London on behalf of Robert Conquest. Copyright © Robert Conquest, 2007.
Cosmo Landesman quote from Starstruck, Macmillan 2008.
Every effort has been made to contact copyright holders. The publishers will be glad to rectify in future editions any errors or omissions brought to their attention.